Tell Me Lies
by tinypinkmouse
Summary: Obviously at some point Sam had missed something. Follows "Give Me Wings"  loosely anyway , implied Gabriel/Dean.


_This is the current order: 'Colour Me Free', 'Soothe the Pain', 'Whisper a Sunset', 'Give Me Wings' and then this part way off in the future. Obviously there's a lot of story missing before we get here, but equally obviously I can't seem to write things in any kind of order._

* * *

Sam looks around the living room curiously. Dean's wandered off to the kitchen to get beer, because nothing helps with the awkward like a bit of alcohol and this is _awkward_. Maybe that's how it has to be. There's been too much… stuffand it's just been too long. Sam can't really blame anyone but himself. Again.

Three years. Three years of Dean not wanting to have anything to do with Sam and Sam can't really blame him. It hurts, but Sam knows it's his own damn fault.

Three years of having no idea what Dean was doing, just Bobby's word that he's okay. Then two days ago Dean calls him and gives him an address. "If you, you know, wanna come over."

No explanations, no nothing. Just that.

It's not like Sam needs to think about it. Not after three years. Not this time.

He finishes his hunt in record time and now here he is. In Dean's _house_, in Dean's _living room_ and of course he's curious.

It isn't what he expects. None of it is, not really.

When he'd asked Dean to go and live this apple pie life, Sam hadn't really been sure Dean could. Not in the long run, no matter how much Dean might want it. Because even if Dean was tired of hunting, tired of everything… hunting is what Dean does, it's part of what makes him _Dean._

The room is neat, but there's just enough clutter to make it look like someone actually lives there, which is good because the décor looks like it's been plucked straight out of some magazine. It's not that there's anything wrong with it per se, if you like lime green and pale blue. And apparently also the occasional pink and brown stripes. It looks like someone's designed it to be modern and fun, maybe even dynamic (or at least Sam's sure that's what the magazine would have said). He'd given Dean an incredulous look when he saw it, but Dean had just shrugged and said, "You get used to it," before he went off to get the beers.

There's nothing that really stands out, except for the colour scheme obviously, there's a huge entertainment centre, a bowl of candy on the table (the candy is coloured to match the rest of the room), a bookshelf on one wall and no pictures of any kind anywhere. Sam's not sure why, but the last one is what strikes him as the most odd.

Since there isn't anything else all that personal, Sam wanders over to the bookshelf. It's not terribly organised; there's an array of novels with no overall theme that he can see, which is normal enough he supposes, mixed with the books that aren't exactly normal, unless of course you happen to be a hunter in which case they're par for the course. There's not that many, but most of the ones there have titles that have Sam's fingers itching to pull them out.

The full set of _Supernatural _novels is a lot more surprising than anything else he can see. Dean was never really comfortable with the idea of those books and Sam can't say that he feels any different. It's not just the published works either, because they're followed by a set of manuscripts that Sam's pretty sure has to be the unpublished part of the Gospels. For a moment Sam's struck by the disturbing thought that Dean's been reading about what Sam's been up to for the last three years. And it's not like he's been doing anything bad this time, but the thought still makes him uncomfortable.

But surely the Gospels ended when the Apocalypse did? Right?

Sam's just about to pull out the last manuscript, just to make sure, when his eyes fall on what looks very much like a photo album tucked in between a book on home cooking and a copy of _Galdrabók. _It's black and actually surprisingly thick and there's no way Sam can resist pulling it out.

"That wasn't my idea," Dean says. It sounds a lot like he's amused and maybe a bit defensive.

Sam turns around guiltily, photo album still in hand, to see Dean leaning against the wall just this side of the living room, with two beer bottles dangling from one hand.

How long has he been watching? And how the hell didn't he notice?

"Dean, uh… sorry, I…" Sam shrugs helplessly.

Dean pushes himself off the wall and walks towards Sam. He hands over one of the beers. "I don't mind."

Dean moves himself over to the couch and slumps down while Sam still stands there feeling like he's just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. _Damnit. _He just doesn't want to do anything that'll piss Dean off again.

"Go ahead and look if you wanna," Dean says with a wave towards the photo album. He sounds perfectly casual, but Sam still knows his brother well enough to notice the tension Dean's trying to hide.

Sam thinks about it for a moment, he really doesn't want to screw this up, but he can't help being curious. With a small sigh Sam takes the album with him as he joins his brother on the lime coloured couch. There's more than enough room for a person to sit between the two brothers.

Dean picks up a blue throw pillow and fiddles with it distractedly. Sam puts the photo album down in his lap and flips open the first page. The first picture is more than familiar, it's the only picture Sam has ever seen of his whole family. They look so happy and carefree (well Sam guesses his baby self doesn't look like much of anything), just like any normal family.

The next picture Sam has never seen before, it shows their mom the only way Sam remembers her; young and vibrant.

"Where…?"

"It's… just look at the pictures Sammy," Dean says gruffly and Sam recognises the 'we're not talking about my emotions' tone of voice. He glances at Dean, he's still plucking at the throw pillow and he looks… nervous.

Sam lets it go. For now.

There's a picture of dad, every bit as young as mom, stuck in a past where neither of them remember ever meeting Sam. Then there's Sam himself, looking all gangly and awkward as a teenager.

He turns the page. Sam doesn't remember Dean ever being that young, he's seen those few pictures but that's all, but he'd still recognise his brother no matter what. It can't be more than a few years after the fire, there's little Dean sitting in a kid sized chair at a kid sized table smiling shyly at another boy.

Sam doesn't remember his brother being shy either, but the photo has captured that little quirk of lips and the slightly lowered head perfectly and there's nothing else Sam can call it. The other boy doesn't look familiar, but then Sam wouldn't remember any friends Dean made in kindergarten (to be honest, Sam never really remembers Dean with any friends).

"It's the first time we met," Dean mutters reluctantly and Sam can hear the hint of fondness that his brother can't quite hide from him.

And seriously, that feeling of things being a bit off Sam's been having since he got here isn't getting any better. He'd just chucked it off to awkwardness and Dean probably still being a bit angry about the whole not telling him about being alive thing. For chrissakes, Dean hadn't talked to him in three years because of it, things were bound to be weird.

Sam frowns. "Who…?" His eyes fall on the next picture and the words get stuck in his throat.

Because that picture? That picture is pretty much self explanatory. It looks like it's taken in bar and the two people in it seem to have no idea that they're being photographed. The photo has caught them from the side and it doesn't exactly show all the details, but Sam sure as hell gets enough of them. There's Dean with a beer in hand and a stupidly adoring (and drunk) look on his face and Gabriel pretty much straddling his lap with a lopsided smirk on his lips.

Sure it could be one of the Trickster's jokes, but… Dean wouldn't have a picture of that and…

Okay, maybe this whole thing is a trick. Maybe this isn't even _Dean_. That would explain the colour scheme.

Sam clears his throat. "He's dead," he manages to get out. That… wasn't what he'd planned to say, but it's as good a point as any at this point.

"Well, who around here hasn't died a few times?" There's a sharpness there that Sam probably deserves.

There's an awkward silence until Sam says with obviously fake casualness, "So, since when have you been gay for an archangel?"

Dean glowers at him. "If there's a single touched by an angel joke from your mouth Sammy… it's going to be another three years before I talk to you again."

For the first time since he arrived Sam thinks things are going to be okay.


End file.
